Chapter two: Market day

The day after the party was a quiet day of recovery at the Cottons, as at most homes in Hobbiton. Daily chores needed to be done but the rest of the day was spent in recuperating from the party. The following day was Saturday, which meant going into town to the market. Each Saturday during the harvest months, Farmer Cotton loaded his wagon with produce and went into town with the older children. This week was no exception. The cart was loaded and ready to go before dawn. Rose was sleepy but eager to see Marigold. She wanted to talk about the party with her friend.

The sky was pale with the coming of dawn as the cart approached Hobbiton’s market square. The Cottons quickly unloaded the cart and young Tom drove the cart and pony to the local stable while the rest of the family finished setting the produce in place and generally getting their stall ready for the day.

It wasn’t long before their first customers showed up and within a few hours they were facing a steady stream of hobbits eager for fresh vegetables. By elevenses they were running low on wares and Rose’s Da closed the stall shortly before luncheon, pleased with the fact that all of his produce had sold well. He distributed a few small coins to each of his children before heading for the stables to claim his wagon and pony. He was heading back to the farm but always allowed the children to stay in town for the afternoon, meeting with friends and doing a bit of shopping (or mischief) before coming home in time for supper. They worked hard all week long and deserved a half day of freedom. He chuckled a bit as he watched them scatter to the four corners of Hobbiton. Still laughing, he turned the pony for home and his lovely wife.

Rose added the coins her father had just given her to the few coins in her pouch and nodded in satisfaction. Just enough. If she hurried, she had time to take care of one important errand before going to meet Marigold. She walked across the square to where the artisans’ stalls were located. It took just a moment to find the person she was looking for.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Proudfoot," she greeted the woman sitting behind the stall.

"Ah and a good afternoon ta you, too, Rosie lass. How are your parents?"

"They’re well." Rose chatted with the woman for a moment before getting to the point of her visit.

"Do you still have that necklace I was looking at last week?" she finally asked, a bit shyly.

"Aye, that I do. I thought you might be coming back for that." Mrs. Proudfoot reached into a small box that she kept under the stall and removing a tiny, fabric-wrapped package, handed it to Rose.

Rose carefully unwrapped the fabric and examined the item inside. Smiling in satisfaction, she rewrapped the bundle and pulled out her money pouch. Opening the drawstring, she dumped the contents into her palm and handed over the entire amount. Both sides satisfied that a fair deal had been concluded, Rose placed the small bundle into her pouch, pulled the drawstring closed and tucked the pouch into her pocket, patting the pocket once to be sure everything was safe and secure.

On her way back across the square, she stopped briefly at her father’s now deserted stall to pick up a picnic basket that she had left there earlier. Then she continued on out of town and up the road to Bagshot Row, stopping to knock at the door of number 3.

The door flew open before she had a chance to put knuckles to wood, however, and she found Marigold standing next to her.

"Come on, Rosie. You don’t want to go in there," Mari pulled her confused friend along with her. "May just made an awful mess in the kitchen and Mum is ever so mad at her. It’s best if we just go along quiet-like and get out of the way."

Rose saw that Mari had a covered basket with her as well. The two lasses ambled along the road for about half an hour before finding a nice quiet place for their picnic. They quickly spread a blanket on the grass under a leafy elm and set their food out. It was quiet for a time as they paid more attention to the food than each other, but as the food diminished and their corners filled up, conversation picked up. At first they just went over their memories of the wonderful birthday party and then began speculating on what might have happened to Bilbo Baggins.

"Sam doesn’t think he’s coming back," Marigold shared. "He was up to Bag End today to look over the gardens and see how much damage the party did. He said Mr. Frodo’s inherited Bag End and everything in it, so he guesses that means Mr. Bilbo ain’t coming back. He’s that broke up about it."

Rose knew that Sam idolized Mr. Bilbo. "Poor lad," she laughed. "No more stolen hours in Bag End, I suppose, listening to stories of Elves and such."

"I s’pose not," Mari laughed in agreement. "Still, that’s not all he’s been thinking about lately." She shot a rather arch look at her friend.

"Oh?" Rose asked.

"Oh," Marigold nodded. "It seems that our Sam is sweet on a lass."

Rose looked at the ground, wondering why she was blushing. It was nothing to her if Sam liked a lass. "Hm," she mumbled noncommitally.

"Yes, it seems that he was quite taken by a certain lass in a new blue dress." Marigold was enjoying Rose’s discomfort.

For her part, Rose was having a hard time understanding her own reaction to this news. Her heart was beating much faster than usual and she had a queer, fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath and tried to get herself under control.

Marigold eyed Rose’s high color and rapid breathing. "Maybe the lass in question is a bit taken, herself."

Still Rose said nothing.

"Rosie, are you sweet on my brother?" Mari asked seriously.

Was she? Rose had known Sam most of her life. When she and Mari were small children, they had followed Sam and Tom, begging to be allowed to play with the older lads. More recently, Sam had been a good companion. He was a bit older than the lasses and rather more serious and responsible than most young tweens, with a strong work ethic that was instilled in him by his gaffer but when he wasn’t working he was usually ready for any fun that the young Gamgees and Cottons could come up with. But to be sweet on Sam?

"Rosie?"

Rose looked up at her friend but still wasn’t sure what to say.

"Why, Rosie Cotton! You are. You’re sweet on Sam!"

Rose finally found her tongue. "Don’t be silly, Mari. I am most certainly not sweet on Sam. Besides," and she turned the tables on her friend, "I wouldn’t talk so if I were you. I saw the looks you were giving our Tom during the sheep-shearing contest. Maybe we should talk about that for a little while."

Now it was Marigold’s turn to color and fall silent. In truth, she thought Tom Cotton had looked quite fine the other day. Before she was aware of it, her lips had curved into a shy smile. She tried to rid her face of the give away expression but, oddly enough, the smile seemed to have a mind of it’s own and was soon covering her entire face. The only thing left to do at this point was ‘fess up to the truth.

"Well, he did look quite handsome, didn’t he?"

Rose laughed in astonished surprise at her friend before finally giving in. "Hmm. Yes and I s’pose I did like dancing with Sam. That doesn’t mean I’m sweet on him," she added when she saw Mari’s expression of delighted astonishment.

Both lasses had a good laugh at themselves but soon calmed down. They continued to gently tease each other as they packed up the remains of their picnic. Rose walked with Marigold back to Bagshot Row and then turned for home. She walked quietly through town, deeply absorbed in her thoughts, not even noticing when Tom and Jolly joined her. The two lads had to move in front of her and block her progress before she finally looked up and noticed them.

"All right there, Rosie?" Tom asked in concern.

Rose quickly pushed all thoughts of dancing and other nonsense out of her mind, for the moment at least.

"I’m fine, ta for asking. Now that you’re here, though, you can carry my basket for me," and she handed over the empty picnic basket. With a sudden grin she quirked an eyebrow at both of her brothers. "Last one home gets to muck the pony stalls!" and lifting her skirt, she took off at a dead run. Tom and Jolly exchanged one look before shouting and chasing after her. Apparently, there wasn’t anything wrong with their sister, after all.